That Colour Suits You
by Firinn3
Summary: A humorous look at a day in the life of a couple trying to keep their relationship a secret. Too bad fate and the author conspired against them!
1. Chapter 1

"Merde," Picard muttered as he crawled through the pitch black Jeffries tube. His damn uniform top was riding up again, and it was driving him mad. "Why can't Starfleet make something that fits properly?"

Tugging the hem down with more rancour than usual, Picard picked up his hand held light and continued to make his way through the tube, searching for the junction that would allow him to climb up to the bridge.

Finally reaching the ladder that would get him to the bridge, Picard heaved a sigh and tried his communicator another time before beginning the climb, "Picard to bridge."

No response. He tried again, "Picard to Riker."

Nothing; not even a chirp to indicate that the comm had been activated.

_What the hell was going on?_

_***_

Dr. Beverly Crusher was glad she couldn't see anything. Making her way through the Jeffries tubes to sickbay had proven to be as unpleasant in a real emergency as it had always been during the standard drills. Her only consolation was at least this time she couldn't see the endless drop below her due to the complete absence of light in the tube.

Crawling out into the main corridor, she was confronted by a surreal scene. People moved to and fro, trying to get to their posts, most holding hand held lights, others going on feel or, if they were lucky, infrared vision. The lights, moving randomly over uniforms, bulkheads, ceilings, and floors, created a disconcerting kaleidoscope effect throughout the hallway. Keeping her beam directed on the floor, Dr. Crusher worked her way through the chaos and eventually reached the main doors to sickbay.

She was relieved to see that by the time she arrived someone had managed to force the doors open, and she had easy access to her domain. Striding in, she took command and began to deliver orders almost without pause.

***

Captain Picard crawled through another access panel and found himself on his knees on the bridge. Quickly standing up and straightening his recalcitrant uniform, he scanned the deck with his light, relieved to see most of the senior crew already in place.

Focusing on his first officer, Picard demanded, "Number One, report!"

"Sir, the ship was hit by an ion storm at 0130 hours. The storm knocked out all power to all systems," replied Commander William T. Riker. "We have no propulsion, no communications, and no power. Back-ups are all off-line, and if it weren't for quick thinking on the part of Geordi and Data, we wouldn't even have life support."

Picard swung his light over to where Lt. Commander Data was standing, "Sir, Geordi and I were working on a project in the robotics lab when the storm hit. We were able to patch life support into a self-contained generator that I had installed during our last stop over at Starbase 238. It has enough power to run the life support system for another three hours."

Picard nodded, "Well done. Now we just need to get main power back online before we run out of air."

"Sir," the big Klingon rumbled, "I have detached all security personnel to search out any and all self-contained power sources aboard the ship. My teams are going from quarters to quarters, collecting everything they can find, including hologenerators and even sonic toothbrushes. They have been instructed to deliver anything they find to engineering and sickbay."

The disembodied voice of Geordi LaForge startled the crew on the bridge as it pierced the eerie silence of the dead starship, "LaForge to bridge."

"Go ahead, Geordi," came Picard's crisp reply.

"Sir, I've managed to re-establish internal communications, but most of the ship's systems are completely fried."

"What about life support?" interjected Riker.

"It's at the top of my list, Commander," Geordi sighed. "But everything's a mess and we're not going to be able to fix it ourselves. Once we get life support online, I recommend we send out a distress beacon."

"Alright," came Picard's reply. "But give us an update on when you think you'll have the main power back online."

"Aye, sir. It's not much fun working in the dark down here either."

***

"Dr. Selar," Dr. Crusher called as she shifted position at the foot of an inoperable biobed, "Once you have Ensign B'Kagh stabilized, I'm going to need you to work with the team trying to reactivate the containment fields for the research labs."

Turning to the patient in front of her, Dr. Crusher adjusted her light to get a better look. "Don't worry Lieutenant O'Reilly, you're doing fine," she smiled at the petite blonde. "Babies never come at convenient times, and this will be just one more story you'll be able to share with your daughter about her birth."

Returning to her office to grab her lab coat, she was temporarily blinded by the sudden return to full lighting. Taking a moment to let her eyes adjust, she was about to leave her office when Nurse Ogawa appeared at the door.

Eyes sparkling, Nurse Ogawa smiled at her boss, "That colour suits you."

Puzzled, Beverly looked down at her lab coat, wondering why Alyssa would take this moment to compliment her on a garment she had worn for years, when she noticed something very wrong.

"Shit!" she blurted as she wrapped her lab coat tightly around her slender frame. She grabbed a new uniform top from the drawer behind her desk and motioned Nurse Ogawa to leave so she could put it on.

"Don't you dare say a word about this!" she hissed at her head nurse.

Trying not to burst out laughing, Alyssa replied, "Aye, Sir. My lips are sealed…" Darting out the door, she finished her sentence, "Captain."

Beverly groaned as she removed the burgundy uniform top with its distinctive four pips, and replaced it with her customary blue one.

Smiling wickedly to herself as she exited her office, she tried to imagine the scene on the bridge when the power returned.


	2. Chapter 2

The sudden return to full lighting temporarily blinded the crew on the bridge. Wanting an immediate update, Picard called, "Picard to LaForge."

"Report."

"LaForge here, sir," he sounded tired but ebullient as he delivered his report. "We've got main power and life support back online. However, propulsion, weapons, and shields are out of commission until we get some serious help. From the damage I'm seeing, I think we're going to need a tow back to drydock, sir."

Picard sighed and ended the communication. Tugging down his uniform top, he prepared to direct Data to launch several distress beacons when he noticed all activity on the bridge had ceased.

Raking his gaze around the room, Picard should have seen each member of his command crew busy at their tasks. Instead, silence pervaded the frozen tableau on the bridge.

The reality, and underlying implications, of what the crew were seeing was only just beginning to set in. Realizing the situation was becoming intensely uncomfortable, Deanna Troi moved to break the silence, "Sir? I think…"

Riker, eyes twinkling, interjected, "Sir, with all due respect, I think if you decided to take the new position as head of stellar sciences, you really ought to have told me first."

"What?!" Picard was flummoxed. "Number One, I don't…" his words trailed off as he noticed Riker's very pointed glance at his uniform.

Dread and apprehension filled him as he looked down. There, instead of the familiar burgundy of command, he found the deep blue of a science officer's uniform – a blue that matched the incredibly enchanting eyes of the red-headed woman whose uniform this was. Memories of how her uniform had ended up, along with his, in a jumbled pile on the floor of his quarters came unbidden to mind.

Quickly bringing himself back to the present, he swore under his breath, "Merde."

If a hull breach had opened under his feet and swallowed him forever, he would have been thankful. Instead, he was staring into the eyes of his First Officer, who was exerting every ounce of strength he possessed not to fall down laughing.

Attempting to salvage what was rapidly becoming a horrifically embarrassing situation, Picard replied, "Well Number One, as you can see, I was giving the position some serious thought." Picard's eyes gleamed as he continued, "But after trying it on for size, it just didn't seem to be the right 'fit' for me."

Willing himself not to laugh, Riker replied, "No, sir."

"I'm afraid I'm too set in my ways to change careers at this point. It was an interesting experiment, but I think I will change back into my regular uniform," explained Picard. "What do you think, Commander?"

Almost choking, Riker replied, "An excellent idea, sir."

"Well, if that's settled," he allowed his gaze to pass over each crew member, "I think we should get back to the task at hand."

"Number One, you have the bridge," Picard added as he tried to make a dignified exit. "If you need me, I'll be in my Ready Room."

Out of habit, Picard tugged on the hem of his uniform, cringed, and sincerely hoped something equally humiliating was occurring in sickbay as he stalked off the bridge.


	3. Chapter 3

She knew she shouldn't laugh. Mortified indignation or embarrassment would be suitable. Laughter was most definitely inappropriate. Even contrition would fit the bill; anything other than the laughter that was threatening to burst forth.

She tried. The gods knew she tried, but when the doors to his quarters closed behind her, even biting her cheeks proved insufficient.

"Oh! Jean-Luc!" she cried, hugging herself as she doubled over laughing. "I am so sorry!"

"Hmmph."

"Jean-Luc," she wiped away the tears streaming down her face. "It's not that bad."

He raised an eyebrow.

Still chuckling, she replied, "Oh, alright, it is that bad."

Unable to hide the mirth in her eyes, Beverly took a seat on the chair across from Jean-Luc and tried to soothe his ruffled feathers.

"You know the crew were going to find out eventually," she said.

"Mmh."

"Well, Mister Cranky-Pants," mild anger at his stubborn determination to cling to his injured pride entered her voice, "just how would you have liked the crew to learn about us?"

"Certainly not like that," he huffed.

"Oh, I see," she replied. "Then you would have preferred to make a ship-wide announcement?

"Attention all hands, this is the Captain speaking." She smiled at the look of horror on his face as she spoke in a fair imitation of his voice. "I would like to inform you that the Chief Medical Officer and I are engaging in a highly satisfying sexual relationship. I know I can rely on your discretion in this matter, and if you value your career you won't knock after 2300 hours."

"Beverly," Jean-Luc was trying not to smile, trying to hang onto his self-pity for a little longer, but her humour was infectious. "That is definitely not how I would have done it."

"How then?"

"Well, I, uh," he stammered.

"Hmmph," she leaned back and crossed her arms. "We could deny it you know."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Beverly replied. "We could deny that we're anything more than friends."

"And precisely how do we do that?" Jean-Luc asked, hardly daring to hope she had a solution to this fiasco.

"It's simple," she kept her voice steady. "All we have to do is let it be known that you enjoy wearing women's clothing, and that I was, as your dutiful best friend, helping you engage in your fetish when the power cut out."

"Beverly!" he thundered, aghast.

She was laughing again.

"Jean-Luc, trust me," spasms of laughter still rocked her, "this is not how I envisioned the crew finding out, but there's nothing we can do to change it."

More seriously, she added, "And brooding about it won't make it any better either."

"I am not brooding," he replied.

"Alright then, sulking."

"Beverly," he warned.

"Pouting."

"Beverly," he sighed exasperatedly, "I can't just laugh this off. As the captain, I need to maintain a certain level of dignity."

Beverly bit her tongue as she cut off a sarcastic reply.

"I also," he smiled sheepishly, "don't enjoy having evidence of my private life paraded all over the ship."

"Will said you handled the whole situation remarkably well," she said as she crawled into his lap.

"He would say that," Jean-Luc snorted as he wrapped his arms around her. "He wasn't standing there wearing his lover's top."

They both chuckled at the image of Riker trying to squeeze his bulk into the petite counsellor's uniform.

Lapsing into companionable silence, they watched the stars slide by. After a time, Beverly spoke. "Come on, Jean-Luc," Beverly stood and gently pulled on his arm. "Let's go to bed."

Smiling coyly she added, "I'll make you forget about everything that happened today."

Grinning, he replied as he stood, "Only if you keep your uniform on your side of the bed this time."

"Aye, sir," she replied saucily as she leaned in to kiss him.


End file.
